Saoirse took a deep breath. This is it. The last four months of training and flying across a quarter of the world came down to this event.
She was in Treuna, a tiny city-nation along the Atlantic coast of Africa. Centuries ago, the city’s Emir had broken away from his Sultan and declared the city its own nation. It had maintained its sovereignty to modern times by simply being too small and inconsequential for its neighbors to bother conquering. In recent decades though, large gold deposits had been discovered in the foothills surrounding the coastal town, transforming it almost overnight into first a thriving boom town then a wealthy resort city. Surprisingly though, Saoirse wasn’t there about any gold. The city’s rapid rise to wealth had left it open to less reputable enterprises as well. Treuna had become a major distribution location for the illegal ivory trade. Its port was a convenient meeting point for the poachers, hauling in their load from the continent, to trade of to the smugglers shipping the product around the world.
This trade point provided an opportunity, which was why Saoirse was here. Frankly, she found the whole affair rather distasteful, but the O’Shay brothers didn’t, and Saoirse owed a debt. The gang leaders were the ones who first noticed her petty thefts and offered her a more lucrative option. Amidst the hard period following her expulsion from the convent, Saoirse felt she had no choice but to accept. Naturally, the O’Shay’s felt she owed compensation for their “generosity”. They had provided steady jobs for Saoirse for some time, but of course, they took most of the cut and her debt worked off slowly, ensuring she continued to work for them. This time around, the brothers had heard about the burgeoning ivory trade in Treuna, and decided to bring its bounty to Ireland and turn quite a profit. But, the O’Shays being the O’Shays, they decided go for more blunt approach and steal the ivory instead of buying it like many others. The plan was to swipe a load at a trade off between the smugglers and poachers. A risky plan, but the O’Shays had enough men to pull it off. But there was a catch, they needed to know where and when a trade was happening first. That’s where Saoirse came in. A new gang of poachers were coming in, and their leader was set to meet the head of the smugglers to negotiate an agreement. Rather than a secret back alley meeting though, it was set to be an opulent affair at a private villa in the city’s outskirts. A veritable feast was being held, with musicians and dancers for entertainment. Saoirse had spent months of day in, day out training to learn the local language and dances so she could blend in with the entertainers and hopefully learn where the ivory handover would happen.
Saoirse let out the breath she was holding and tried to stay calm. She felt exposed, and not just because of her scant green dancer’s silks baring most of her fur. This was her first time leaving Ireland since the Vatican “incident”, and by far the largest job she’d been on. She was also alone. She had a directional microphone to amplify voices hidden in her ear fluff, but the earpiece she was accustomed to was absent and there was no backup at the villa. Fortunately her mission was a straightforward get in, get information, get out type of affair. So far, nobody had noticed her accent. A three month crash course left her with a good understanding of Treunese, but the Irish twang couldn’t be erased so easily. The other dancers were from many different locales as well, and the villas guards had barely spoken to any of them besides simple directions, therefor hiding that she didn’t belong. The guards worried Saoirse. They were uniformed and carried some heavy weapons, unlike how she thought some smuggler goons would be armed. The dancers had been directed to a raised stage in a courtyard, where they had set up and were performing accompanied by musicians just off to one side of the stage. The mostly open courtyard had a fountain in the center and palm trees ringing the edge with the stage centered along the wall opposite the main entrance. Various people milled around beyond the stage. Most of the people were indistinct, well dressed townspeople, milling around and making it hard to see, but Saoirse could pick out ragged poachers here and there, as well as some people that looked like sailors which she figured could be smugglers. Eventually she spotted the head poacher, sitting slightly separated from the rest of the crowd, and jiggling his leg impatiently. She guessed his impatience was due to the lack of the smuggler’s leader so far. She tried to keep her ear with the microphone pointed towards the poacher as she danced, so as to not miss anything.
After approximately half an hour, there was a commotion by the entrance and a pudgy dog man in ceremonial garb marched in. The music ground to a halt, the dance stopped and all eyes turned to the entrance. He paused a moment until all eyes were on him, then bellowed, “His Highness, Emir Abdul Raqeeb el-Sader!” The dog stood aside, and in walked the Emir himself. He looked to be an African wolf of some sort, with sleek golden fur. He was garbed in a red silk robe embroidered with gold with a simple beige shirt and trousers underneath. “My dear friends,” he greeted the crowd, “We are gathered to celebrate another year of our city’s glorious history! What started as a poor fishing village, has become the most influential port on the west coast! It has been my honor to guide this city through the changes of these last few years.” A round of applause, then “I could continue to extol the virtues of Treuna, but I know that’s not why we are here. So please! Eat! Drink! And enjoy the comforts of my humble villa!” The music resumed in a vigorous upbeat tune, and the dancers set into motion.
“Shite!” Saoirse thought. The guards made more sense now. They weren’t goons but professional soldiers here to guard the Emir of Treuna! Damn those O’Shays! What had they gotten her into? Saoirse whirled in time with the other dancers, eyes darting over the crowd. The head poacher still sat alone, no smuggler in sight. Meanwhile, the Emir moved through the crowd, greeting and chatting to various people. He must be quite confident in his security to be mingling with the crowd so freely. Eventually he began making his way to the stage, watching the performance intently. He stalked closer to Saoirse’s portion of the stage, then stopped directly in front of her. “Oh, sweet Mary!” she thought, “Does he know I’m not supposed to be here? Oh, crap! What if he realizes there’s one extra dancer than scheduled? Don’t mess up, and maybe he’ll go away or think one of the others is is the impostors? Come on girl! Do it just like you practiced all those times!” Muscle memory kicked in and she made it through a complicated movement of the dance while his eyes remained locked on her. Finally the Emir nodded approvingly and turned away. Saoirse breathed a sigh of relief. As he walked away, her eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to his waist, where a jeweled ceremonial saber poked out from beneath his outer robe. A thought that the sword would be quite the prize popped into her head, but she quickly dismissed it. It wouldn’t be worth angering the O’Shays again or getting caught. Her eyes and ears turned back to the poacher, only to discover he was gone! She began frantically scanning the crowd for him but didn’t get far. A pair of soldiers marched up to the stage and called to her, “Hey you! Brown cat!.” Oh shite. The game was up. The Emir must have noticed she wasn’t one of the scheduled dancers. It was too open on the stage, everyone would see if she bolted for it. She dropped out of the dance formation and walked to them. Once she arrived one soldier quietly said “You’re to come with us. The Emir wishes to see you.” Saoirse gulped and nodded, then they began escorting her through the crowd towards the back.

Part 2: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/53168372/
Art by  LynxyFA
Artist submission: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/53119835/